


Strawberries

by goodgollyzollie



Series: small college shenanigans [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crushes, Haircuts, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Singing, Trans Bokuto Koutarou, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:49:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24780355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodgollyzollie/pseuds/goodgollyzollie
Summary: On a hot August Sunday, Kuroo cuts Koutarou's hair for him.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou
Series: small college shenanigans [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792267
Comments: 6
Kudos: 75





	Strawberries

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my small college AU series— this is a stand alone that doesn't require the reading of other works in this series to enjoy it, but is part of a larger AU series :)

_ Hot _ was all Koutarou could think. 

He was laying in the shade of the oak tree in the back of Foster, on a holey grey blanket, while he tried to ignore the small pool of sweat that was collecting under his binder.

It was unsurprising that it was hot, of course-- August in the Midwest rivaled August in Tokyo some days-- but it was still unpleasant to be sweating this much despite not even moving. And there was a reason he didn’t visit his relatives in Tokyo in August if he could avoid it. 

“Bo,” one of his housemates called from the back porch, “can you bring the chairs on the deck when you’re done? It’s gonna storm tonight.”

He stuck a thumb up and he heard the screen door slam. At least it might get cooled off then. He flopped his arm back down and let his eyelids warm under the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves. That was the thing about the heat-- Koutarou loved the sun but couldn’t take how it made his already hotblooded body feel on days like this. Maybe he should have just worn a sports bra and tank top today.

He heard the door open again but he didn’t open his eyes. Whoever it was didn’t need his attention-- he’d organized the social yesterday with the two LGBTQ+ groups on campus practically by himself so as far as he was concerned, anyone with convener questions could bug the other convener.

“Hey, Bo.”

Unless it was the other convener, Koutarou supposed.

“Hey, Kuroo.” Koutarou half-sat up and felt a bead of sweat slide down his chest. Gross.

Kuroo waved a popsicle in front of him. “You want it?”

Gratefully, Koutarou tore the flimsy plastic packaging with his teeth and bit into the column of red flavored ice. “Thanks,” he garbled out around the ice granules on his tongue. Kuroo laughed and opened his, though with slightly less vigor. “Welcome.”

Kuroo sucked thoughtfully on his blue ice. Koutarou looked at the way his lips shone with melted ice and sugar. Koutarou flicked a bug off his thigh and sat up fully. “So the social went pretty well yesterday,” he said as he felt a blissful breeze wrap around his back.

Kuroo’s eyes darted over with a smirk. “Fishing for compliments?”

Koutarou just shrugged. Kuroo chuckled and sucked on his popsicle again. “It did go well, yeah,” Kuroo conceded, “good job, convener.”

“Thank you, convener,” Koutarou said, tipping his head in a quick bow. “But Aresh and Camille did a lot more than me, I think. They’re in actual clubs and not just house conveners so they did a lot of the actual convincing people to come.”

Kuroo broke off a piece of the popsicle with his lips. Koutarou watched his jaw flex as he moved the piece around his mouth. “Yeah, but we have space and stuff for events. There’s a reason there’s a LGBTQ house and LGBTQ clubs. Different purposes.”

Koutarou supposed he was probably right. “I was thinking we should host a movie night soon.”

“Oooh,” Kuroo said, “that’s a good idea. Maybe we can show  _ Rafiki _ . And we can do it as a joint thing with one or both of the clubs, if we want a larger group.”

So far, in the first two weeks of being the conveners that year, it hadn’t been hard. Kuroo was pretty reliable and organized while Koutarou was more excitable and creative. When they had been nominated by their housemates last spring, even the conveners who were stepping down agreed that they’d be a good pair to run things around the house. 

“Maybe you can get the house a higher social status than we could,” one of the old conveners had joked. And while it had been a joke, Koutarou and Kuroo were trying to do just that. On Friday night they’d thrown a party and yesterday they’d had their daytime social, and the first weekend back they’d also been part of the “Welcome Back to Campus” string of house parties that happened.

It’s not that Koutarou needed to have the house be considered a party house; he’d let Fry, Moore, and Spanish houses keep their titles as the main party houses. But he also didn’t want them to become irrelevant either so the house decided on at least four parties a month. It was a pretty good place to be in, he decided, if they could keep it up.

With Kuroo at his side, Koutarou decided that they could probably keep it up. 

Koutarou ran a finger through his hair, sighing as his fingers caught on a snarl. “I need to cut it again soon,” he mumbled, munching on his ice again. Kuroo looked over curiously.

“Want me to do it?”

Koutarou was very picky about who he let cut his hair. In his first year he’d had such a bad haircut from one of his friends that he just shaved his head to get rid of it, which he miraculously hated even more. Now the pool of people who he let near his head with scissors and razors was pretty much limited to barbers with a four stars or higher online and Kuroo. 

Koutarou nodded enthusiastically. “Please.”

He pulled a stained plastic chair under the tree and slurped some of the syrup from his popsicle when Kuroo dashed inside to get his supplies. Once, Koutarou tried to convince him to open an unofficial campus business but Kuroo shot the idea down almost immediately-- “I don’t want to do this all the time”-- but Koutarou had to admit he liked having his own personal barber. He liked things that made him feel special, and this was one way Kuroo made Koutarou feel special. So he didn’t push the idea too hard. 

He was nearly done with his sweet slush when Kuroo emerged again. He draped a damp cloth on Koutarou’s neck and sprayed his hair until it was wet enough to comb straight down. Koutarou had foregone gelling it up that day, instead clipping it back in a few glittery clips Noya had bought him for his birthday last year, so Kuroo hadn’t made him shower before. 

Kuroo dropped each of these clips into Koutarou’s palm, humming as he ran his fingers along Koutarou’s scalp. It was a song that Koutarou had heard him playing a lot recently, some slow song that sounded better from Kuroo’s lips than the original did. He smiled when Kuroo started singing under his breath as he stepped in front of Koutarou to examine his bangs. Kuroo caught his eye and flushed, closing his mouth

“Don’t stop singing,” Koutarou protested. Kuroo ran a comb through his bangs one more time.

“I didn’t realize I was singing.”

“I like your singing.”

Kuroo snipped at the ends. “Uh-huh. I’m sure you do.”

Koutarou puffed. “I really do. You have a nice voice.”

It was true. Even though it wasn’t a trained voice, Koutarou liked hearing Kuroo’s singing. It was deep and scratchy, especially late at night when they smoked or in the mornings when he showered. Kuroo seemed to stupidly think that Koutarou found it annoying or worse, and whenever he became aware that Koutarou was listening, he stopped. Sometimes Koutarou could pretend he wasn’t listening so Kuroo would keep going but that was hard to do when face-to-face.

“I won’t look at you, how about,” Koutarou bargained and closed his eyes without waiting for Kuroo’s probable objection. He wasn’t sure it would work, but he could at least try.

There was a pause, a hesitation, before Kuroo took another snip and started to hum again. Koutarou relaxed his shoulders as Kuroo’s hums morphed into slow words. He ran his fingers through Koutarou’s hair, combing it down again to cut the pieces he’d missed before moving to the left side. 

Somewhere in the distance, a cicada trilled like he was singing along with Kuroo. Kuroo was a much better singer, however, and Koutarou wished the bug would shut up about wanting to get some for a little while. He wanted to get some too, but he wasn’t screaming about it and he certainly wasn’t drowning out any beautiful singers with his non-existent screaming. 

Koutarou was rarely quiet. He hated it, really, but somehow when he was Kuroo it became more bearable. Especially if Kuroo’s voice seeped into his ears in place of his own voice. He finished his first song, and when Koutarou didn’t open his eyes, he started a new song. It was another one of his new favorites, one that Koutarou remembered being sung into his hair when Kuroo thought he was asleep on Friday night.

Koutarou bit back a good-natured smile when Kuroo didn’t know the words and he mumbled his way through part of one of the verses. Kuroo must have seen his lip twitch, because he flicked Kouarou’s ear. “I’m doing this for you, don’t laugh at me or I’ll stop.”

“Of course, sorry, sorry,” Koutarou apologized quickly, cracking his eye to see Kuroo fighting back laughter. “Hey!”

Kuroo stepped out of Koutarou’s reach easily. “You make it too easy, Bo. Like I’d leave you here with your right side still long.”

He stepped back and adjusted Kouarou’s head. “Hold still, I’m almost done.”

It really was only a few more cuts and Kuroo was stepping away and checking to make sure his sides were even. Koutarou closed his eyes and relished the feeling of Kuroo’s long fingers combing through his hair. They were gone too soon and Kuroo tossed his shears and comb on the blanket.

“All done,” he announced. Koutarou took out his phone and flipped on the camera, checking his hair carefully even though he knew Kuroo always did a good job.

“Thanks!” He chirped, then smiled playfully. “Do you want your payment now or later?”

Kuroo rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Now, I think.”

Koutarou stood up and threw his arms around Kuroo’s shoulders, his stomach sticking to Kuroo’s bare back, and pressed a wet kiss onto his sweaty cheek. After he pulled away and unconsciously licked his lips, he tasted salt and a hint of artificial sweetness. “That good enough?”

Kuroo laughed and turned around, Koutarou’s hands falling to trace down his arms as he did so. “Unfortunately, my rate has gone up.”

“Damn, that’s too bad,” Koutarou grinned.

“The economy is tough right now. Gotta make ends meet somehow.”

Kuroo leaned in and patted his cheek. Koutarou sighed as though it pained him to do so, but kissed his cheek again, followed by his nose and other cheek for good measure.

Kuroo smiled appreciatively. “And my tip?”

Koutarou rolled his eyes and started to pull away. “Ha-ha.” This was always how it went-- they’d start their weird flirting, kissing, cuddling, or whatever, then one of them would take it a little too seriously (or not seriously enough) and decided to pull away. It was Koutarou’s turn this time to interpret this as something that it wasn’t and deescalate the situation before he got hurt.

It seemed like it was always Koutarou’s turn. 

But Kuroo was staring at him, lips parted enough that Koutarou could see a hint of blue on his tongue, and was taking in a breath to speak when someone in the house shouted “Oh  _ fucking fuck _ Jimin, don’t scare me like that!” followed by riotous laughter.

That was enough to yank them out of the moment as someone (likely Jimin) was apologizing between gasps. Kuroo stepped back and chuckled, scratching his chest. “D’you think she’s really sorry?”

“Jimin?” Koutarou also shuffled away with less convincing laughter. “No, definitely not.”

The two of them simultaneously cleared their throats and started to move to pick things up. Koutarou tugged a few chairs up on the porch to keep them safe from the wind while Kuroo shook off the blanket. 

“Thanks for the haircut, Kuroo!” Koutarou called and Kuroo flashed him a dazzling smile back.

“Any time, Bo.”

Koutarou definitely didn’t shoot inside after that to hide his tomato-like face after that. No, not at all.

**Author's Note:**

> donation commissions are open for the Black Trans Travel Fund, so please consider checking out my tumblr @ goodgollywrites for more details! thank you!
> 
> title is from Strawberries by Caamp, which is one of the fucking sweetest songs ever wow. pretend that was one of the songs that Kuroo sang, mkay?
> 
> this is obviously from quite a few months before shut me up but same universe! I guess I'll put them together in a collection or smth idk
> 
> also idk if it's clear or not but a convener is someone who is elected to be in charge of how a house is run """"officially"""" but is not like, in charge, per say. Bc they're also just students that have a little more responsibility


End file.
